


Life and Soul

by JQ (musicmillennia)



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hallucinations, M/M, Some Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 00:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11955549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/JQ
Summary: Mick will take Len any way he can.





	Life and Soul

_"Be with me always—take any form—drive me mad! only do not leave me in this abyss, where I cannot find you! Oh, God! it is unutterable! I_ cannot _live without my life! I_ cannot _live without my soul!"_

Heathcliff,  _Wuthering Heights_

* * *

"You gonna tell me the passcode or what?"

Mick jerks awake.

"Mick."

"I know you're in there, Mick. Y'do know it's my room too, right?"

"Let me in, Mick."

Mick stumbles to his feet.

 _"Let me in_ _, let me in, let me—"_

* * *

After Doomworld, it starts all over again.

Soon as they see dinosaurs in the city, Snart says, "And here I thought Barry Allen was a mess."

Mick doesn't know what it says about him that he thinks  _Thank God_. He finds he doesn't care.

* * *

Some days, Mick only sees him in the corner of his eye, invisible when he turns his head. Those are the days he starts panicking, starts to believe he's actually forgetting Leonard Snart's face. Those are the worst days.

Then there's a knock at his door, and everything's okay again.

* * *

It's not his Len. It never is anymore. Like an endless time loop. Brainwashed Len, Hallucination Len, and now—whatever this is. But never  _his_ Len.

Sure, he knows Mick. Pretty sure every Leonard Snart knows a Mick. But when the team mentions the Oculus, he raises an eyebrow and asks if that's some "future thing" that'll fix the mess.

Sometimes he has a cold gun. Sometimes he compares Mick's heat gun to his Glock.

And sometimes—the worst and best times—he looks at Mick and the team with a survivor's hope. Mick blinks, and it's gone again.

Still better than nothing.

* * *

He and Kinda Len fuck on Mick's old Heat Wave jacket. There's no knock on the door that night.

* * *

There's no slow fade, no echoing voice. They fly back into the repaired timestream and Len's just. Gone.

The team slumps, even though they should've expected it. Tell each other as much.

A familiar smirk walks back into Mick's head. "Were you expecting someone else?"

Mick relaxes.

* * *

"You  _do_ know they don't deserve you, right?" Len asks, lounging in the chair in that sideways thing he does. (Did.  _Does_.)

Mick pounds the punching bag. "Dunno what you're talkin' about."

"Yes you do." Len rolls to his feet, sauntering to his side. "You're worth more than this, Mick. Go back to Central. Go to the Bahamas, I don't care. Just get out."

Mick clamps on the bag. "And what happens when I do, huh? Where will you go?"

Len smirks, almost fond. Mick almost,  _almost_ , feels his hand. He wants to close his eyes, seek it out, but if he does, Len might disappear again, and he can't take much more of that.

Cold lips hover at his ear. "As if I'd ever let you go."

* * *

They're in Antarctica of all places. Len steps out in his parka and loudly inhales, nostrils flaring.

"Just my type," he says, and starts walking.

Mick doesn't know when he started following his hallucinations instead of the other way around. He supposes it's just instinct, following Len. Might hate it sometimes, but right now, seeing the back of Len's head is all he needs.

"Mick!" Sara shouts, "Where are you going?"

Len's lip curls in disgust. "Mommy's calling."

Mick still hesitates.

* * *

Len watches his lighter over his shoulder. "You know this ain't healthy, right?"

"Thought you'd stopped tryin' t'fix me," Mick mumbles.

"Not that."

Cold air brushes Mick's cheek.

Mick grits his teeth. "I'm doin' better, ain't I?" He hasn't even touched his beer in hours.

Len leans on the table. "I won't leave." Mick releases a breath. "I was just sayin'."

"I don't care," Mick snaps.

Len shrugs. He doesn't bring it up again.

* * *

They visit 2010. Not for the first time, Mick thinks he would rather die.

Then again, Len's alive and kickin'. He's also knocking knees with his Mick. So long as Mick keeps his scars hidden, he'll be fine.

With past him off at a bar, it's easy to slip into the little apartment on Main. A favorite safe-house of theirs, where they could hear the city.

Len doesn't look up from his magazine. "You're early."

"Idiots weren't worth my time," Mick replies easily.

As always, Len reads his tone perfectly. His pupils dilate.

Mick bends him over the couch. But for their pulled-down jeans, they keep their clothes on. Len presses against him in a way he hasn't since 2046. The thought tightens Mick's grip.

Lenny, Lenny, Lenny, Lenny...

* * *

It's always when Mick's in bed that there's a knock.

_"Let me in."_

He always answers.

* * *

One day, Len walks out of the galley with a bowl of vanilla bean.

Mick stares. His hallucination is silent.

"What're you lookin' at?" Len asks.

Mick can't swallow. Len's eyes narrow.

"Mick—"

" _Snart_!" Ray cries, "What—how—" his brow furrows. "You're not with the Legion, are you?"

Len blinks. "The what?"

Mick's bones rattle. Of course it's not him.

Len glances between Ray and Mick. "I was gone for five minutes."

"But—the Oculus! And—"

"Yes," Len says, drawing out the vowel, "I stuck my gun in it?"

Mick looks at Ray. Just to be sure.

Ray's gaping, because he heard Len. He sees him.

Len gestures to his bowl. "Anybody gonna fill me in, or am I gonna have to freeze this again?"

It's only thanks to his reflexes that Mick doesn't knock him to the ground. Instead, his spoon and bowl hover awkwardly over Mick's back.

"Mick?" he murmurs, a new tension to his voice. He thinks something's  _wrong_.

"I'm gonna punch you," Mick says, "Might knock your teeth out. And you're gonna deserve it."

"For which fight?" Len deadpans, though there's a sober hint.

"For you  _dyin' on me_."

"...come again?"

* * *

 _Knock-knock._ "Mick. Why's the door locked?"


End file.
